Mr_Grey

You have my congratulations for this new element in your life.

We have to move fast. We have to be offworld and back home, and we have to be there yesterday. I never understood what that saying meant before now.

I certainly wish I was home today.

The best place to go is the lab where Antimatter's technicians are building more of those interdimensional transporter devices. While my report indicated he'd gotten the coordinates wrong, he already knew the device itself worked. They'd already be mass producing the damn things to outfit Tyrant's invasion forces. Once Antimatter figured out the right coordinates (or that I'd lied to him), it wouldn't take long to program the machines and then the heroes of Paragon City would have a real mess on their hands.

Again, I found myself wondering if the Etoile Isles here provided some kind of outpost against "Emperor Cole." I push the thought out of my mind, however, and focus on Cheryl and Calvin.

I need them to be able to blend in... I need them to appear as if they would be able to walk into a manufacturing plant like anybody else would. I concentrate a little and before they know what's happening, Cal's in a lab coat and Cheryl... Well, she doesn't look too different, but they both look like they've been able to shower recently. They don't look like they just came out of a firefight. They could be any other father and daughter on their way to a tour of "where daddy works."

"Alright, I'll lead the way," I explain, "You two don't say anything... I just... I hope we can pull this off."

"I'm sure you can do it!" Cheryl says cheerfully as we head in the direction of the laboratory I'd infiltrated before.

Mayhem must have gotten the word out. I can already see the patrols stepping up. Antimatter and Neuron's robots, mostly. They're not affected by my illusions, but they're not too bright, either. They're currently programmed to patrol and look for anything out of the ordinary, not eradicate everything in sight like back in Independence Port (or Subject Harbor, or whatever they call the place in this topsy-turvy abomination). So long as we walk casually, they pass us by.

Everything goes fine and we reach the laboratory. People inside are a little on edge. Robots have been brought in to boost security and I can feel that the people here have dealt with their "overzealous nature" before. Apparently, the last time there were so many Neuron-Antimatter Clockwork in the facility, there had been "accidents," and a few people never made it home.

The security guard recognizes "me" as I try to access the lab, but informs me that I should talk to my superior and tell him to let me do homework for a few days until my new card is approved. He won't be able to let me into the labs and he doesn't have to explain it's because of the trigger-happy machines. Even if I couldn't read his mind showing me his vivid memory of one of his partners being vaporized before his eyes, I would have known because of the looming Baryon-class robot that gazes at us with cold, impassive calculation.

I laugh off the guard's concern and nod. I turn Calvin and Cheryl away and start heading back for the door.

"Well, unfortunately, Professor Scott, I won't be able to show you and your daughter to your new office and workspace because of a problem with my security card. I'm sure we can find another technician here with access to show you to your new offices..."

Cheryl looks at me reproachfully. She can sense what I'm about to do and what terror it will bring about. I send her a mental apology, but things are getting cut too close.

We walk into a break room. The people inside are tense. There's a green-skinned man who can alter energy fields, a blue-skinned woman who can levitate objects (but thankfully can't read minds) and a normal-seeming person tinkering with a device. The normal-seeming one is an inventor of some kind, young, nervous. Apparently, he barely got this job because he had a talent for building nick-knacks that were tiny technological marvels.

"Dale," I say to the young man as if I've known him all my life, "This is Professor Scott. He's transferring over here and the boss wants me to show him the labs, but my security card is all wonky... I don't want to upset Doctor MacIntyre, so could you take them into the lab?"

He looks at me, trying to place me. I fit myself into a few of the memories he digs up, usually putting myself in the background, other times usurping words of encouragement. Poor human, he feels so out of place among people who can mess with quantum physics with just a wave of their hands, he's desperate for any appreciation.

"Uh, sure..." he says as he fumbles in his pocket for his keycard, "Let's show them around..."

Sometimes, being psychic is too easy. It's a good thing most people fill in colors for themselves when it comes to their memories. I wasn't even trying to "paint-by-numbers" myself properly. Adding color takes effort and energy that I'm sure I'll need later.

Dale takes us back to the security door that leads to the labs. A mild probe keeps the security guard from doing more than waving to us. I can't have him acting as if he just told me this next bit wouldn't work.

Dale walks up, slides the card through. He gives the guard the same story I gave him. The guard waves him and the Scotts through. The Baryon, however, does not.

"Halt!" its voice buzzes out of its emitters like a swarm of angry bees, "All employees entering the labs must present identification!"

"But these guys aren't even in the records yet!" Dale shouts back, creating the story before I can even implant one, "They want Professor Scott working in Cold Fusion as soon as possible!"

Wow. I didn't even realize they needed somebody on their Cold Fusion project. I didn't even know they were working on that!

"Regardless..." the machine gets out as it levels its extended, glowing palm at Calvin.

I push with my mind and shout "Malfunction!"

The security guard jumps up at once. His sidearm is decidedly NOT your typical pistol, and a red lance of energy scores into the Baryon's faceplate. Dale shoves one of his projects into the machine's chassis and pulls the Scotts into the labs with him.

I'm able to jump over the security guard's desk moments before an explosion sends metal bits hurtling throughout the room. The guard looks at me when when we can both hear again and I see realization dawn on his face.

"Wait a minute," he gasps, "You don't wor-!"

His sentence is cut short when his own shadow reaches out and grabs him by the face, muffling his shout. I lean in close and pull his energy pistol and keycard away.

"Listen," I hiss, "I am trying to keep as many of you from being hurt as possible! All I need is to get home, and this will all be over!"

It won't. I know. These people will probably suffer because they didn't stop me. I can't help that. If they're smart, they'll get the Hell out of here before things get out of hand.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely, "I wanted to be quiet and subtle, I wanted to get out of here without raising a commotion, but I'm out of time and my options are dwindling. You'll be alright in a moment... Your shadow will let you go shortly after I'm gone. I just want you to know how sorry I am this had to happen to you today..."

His shadow pulls his face down so he can't see me anymore. He knows where I'm going, though.

I scurry next to the desk and swing around the side nearest the security door. Peeking around, I can see people and robots headed my way. I don't like what I do next, but I'm hoping I'm a little luckier with this stunt than I have been so far.

I fire a pair of shots, one at a robot, another at the floor next to one of the people. The shot at the robot scores off one of its shoulder panels. The shot at the person strikes the floor too close to me. Oh well, I can still use it.

I send a panic impulse into the crowd. They think the robots are malfunctioning and starting to shoot randomly into the crowd. Never mind that they just saw two thermal beams and not radiation blasts, and that they'd come from me and not the machines. A little nudge, a little push, and bam! Instant riot.

A moment later, the machines were trying to fend off the legitimate employees of Antimatter's laboratory. Their targeting systems were making it nearly impossible to let any of the people come to harm, but the people wouldn't stop hitting them with chairs, computer monitors, and their own intrinsic powers. While the crowd dismantled the robots, I used the guard's keycard to get into the lab.

----------

I catch up to the Scotts and the technician I've turned in the first laboratory. Unfortunately, Technician Simms isn't in a helpful mood anymore. He took them to his workstation first and has turned a magnetic accelerator pistol on them.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I walk into the lab.

"I'm saving my skin!" he shouts shrilly, "You've [messed] this all up! Who are you!? What are you doing here!?"

"I'm a man who's growing increasingly agitated as you point that possibly defective at my friends."

"Defective? How would you know-!?"

"I can read your mind, Dale. I can read that you've been struggling for the past three months to get that little toy to work right, but the best you've been able to get is barely enough power to toss a paperclip five feet. You only think this latest adjustment, an adjustment you haven't been able to test, will do something lethal and prove your worth to these proper meta humans..."

He looks worriedly at me. His aim starts to waver and Calvin yanks the weapon from his hand. Shocked, he stumbles into the corner of his workstation. His face is turning pale as he thinks of how bad this can get for him.

Fortunately for him, we don't care. I lead them away and deeper into the labs. Before long we can hear the machines bursting in. It won't be much longer before they find us. We need to find the interdimensional doohickeys, and we need to find them fast!

Cheryl leads us into one of the labs and I see them. Racks and racks of them. They look like video game devices like the kids play with. There are a few modified ones, with antennae and other weird gizmos attached, but they all look basically the same. I take one off a rack and mess with it for a while.

"They don't have any power," Calvin explains as he looks over some of the notes, "Their supplies are in a different floor."

"There's got to be something here!" I shout as I search frantically, "There's got to be something we can-!"

"What?" a voice calls out behind me and my blood chills.

I recognize the voice. Steven Berry in my world, also known as Synapse, the fastest man alive. Here, he's Neuron, still the fastest man alive.

And he's looking at the back of my head. He doesn't recognize me without my uniform on. I can't let him have a chance to figure me out.

I don't know why he's here, but I figure it has something to do with the Tyrant telling him to go over Antimatter's work and determine what went wrong. He seems to have come to the same conclusion Antimatter should have (and probably already has), that the devices do work and that something fishy is going on. Now he's just milking the time, possibly waiting for Antimatter to have some sort of presentation ready.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he slurs.

For somebody who's supposed to be so quick, he's surprisingly sluggish when he's just waking up. Seizing the opportunity, I turn and Neuron doesn't see me.

He sees Dominatrix.

God, I hope the files I've read about our counterparts are accurate about this...

That was a fun watch, Dark. Don't give up on your talent to bring a great story to a visual medium.

If it's making you feel good, keep on keeping on, I say.

Happy birthday, Arion.

I'm just wondering which server is the upcoming vict-er... Setting... Yeah, setting...

Best Buy: "Hey, it could be worse. We could be Wal-Mart!"

Boondock Saints: "Do not kill, do not steal, do not ****. These are not polite suggestions, these are codes of conduct which every man of every faith can embrace. We are two lesser forms of filth: Not to cross the bounds into true corruption, into our domain... For if you do, you will see we three, and on that day, you will reap it."

Vigilantes and Rogues are NOT sanctioned by the government (though I guarantee some players will RP as if they are). They don't have the authority to take the law into their own hands, but they will feel as if they have the moral obligation to do so.

As far as condoned killing, as in every instance, it depends on the situation. As I stated before about real-life S.W.A.T., sometimes they have to kill people to save the lives of innocents. This is considered perfectly justified (even if it still weighs on the officer's hearts). If a hero simply had no other choice (or if the only option was heinous and also a breach of moral or legal ethics), it would be condoned.

A licensed hero going out and slaughtering criminals wholesale, however, is renegade, and a violation of their license and registration. Depending on who was slaughtered, in the Court of Public Opinion, they might be heralded as heroes still... For a while. As the streets continue to run red, however... Opinion may very likely change.

I'd love to be a Regenerator. Claws, Martial Arts, Blades, whatever... I just want to be a Regenerating Scrapper.

If I'm understanding your question properly, you're essentially asking whether or not the police would have a "Super S.W.A.T."

S.W.A.T. (Special Weapons And Tactics) officers are essentially a military squad within the police, resplendent with military weapons and combat training. They go into situations that normal police can't handle... Unlike in the game where they show up as every other cop at a certain level range.

Essentially, S.W.A.T. officers can kill... They don't want to, but they can. They're being sent into situations where the individuals involved aren't too keen on sparing human life, so the S.W.A.T. officers have to be ready to take a human life if things get dicey.

Would the police train Super-powered S.W.A.T.? I believe they would. I believe they'd treat it as a logical progression in dealing with the lunacy of a world where the supernatural walks the streets as easily as an average citizen heading to work. Would they train them to kill? Probably. Encourage them to kill? Not likely. As I understand it, police aren't encouraged to kill, just trained for the times where they might have to.

Best Buy: Putting the "Stickin' it to ya" in "Stickin' it to ya."

I would think so... The Devs don't seem too keen on dropping anything they've developed from previous Events.

I mean, they have dropped older stuff before, and look at the backlash that's given them.

This looks like it might be a lot of fun!

Falling Down

William "D-FENS" Foster: *yelling at a racist* "I was merely DISAGREEING WITH YOU! Here in America, we have the Freedom of Speech! The RIGHT to Disagree!"

From earlier in the movie:

D-FENS: "We're rolling back prices to nineteen sixty-five!"

I was not calling you out, nor was I disparaging your opinion. So others may see it, I even quoted it, unedited.

I see what you're saying, and I disagree. Everything else I had to say I sent you in a PM.

That is all.

Josh and S.A.M.
Godzilla (so much Godzilla)
Angus
The Warriors
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (it's surprising how good this movie was/is)
Predator (saw this when I was five or so, and all I could think was "Wow.")
First Blood
First Blood Part 2
RoboCop
Willow
Stand By Me
Silver Bullet (the final confrontation with the werewolf still sticks with me)

Revolver

Avi (Andre Benjamin): "The greatest trick he (Sam Gold/The Devil) ever pulled? Making you think that he's you."

Dead Man

Nobody: "This vision of Heaven that thou now sees... Is my vision's greatest enemy."

Casino

Sam Rothstein: "...Open the door with his head."

Happy birthday, Marines.

Semper Fidelis.

----------

I was toying with saying something like:

Homer Simpson: "Semper Fudge!"

Marine: "Did you just say Semper Fudge?"

Homer: "No, I said the right thing..."

But, I figured that'd be in bad taste. Just because I'm not a "motivated" Marine doesn't mean I lack respect.

Yet another year of being the crazy boys that demand to go in first and leave last under our belts. My hat's off to those of you still pressing on.

Grey's Army

The story continues. I came up with this plot a while back... I told a lot of people on Jello Shooters that I didn't like what I would be doing to Roland... Well, here's what I'm doing to him. Yeah, it seems nice now...

The next thing Grey knew, he was cuddling Jessica on her couch. They'd been talking, but he couldn't remember a word that was said. When he said so, she giggled and gave him another kiss, which again sent his mind into a tailspin.

"I don't get it," he whispered when his head finally cleared, "I mean... Why?"

"I'm tired of being alone," Jessica said just as quietly, "I'm tired of being afraid to open myself up... I'm tired of watching those who could get close to me being torn away before... Before I know how I feel... Roland. I knew... I knew when I saw you on the floor, unable to move... I didn't want to lose you."

She held him a little longer and they sat in silence. He ran his fingers through her hair, he couldn't believe how soft it felt. Was it really this simple? Could he be this fortunate?

Roland had told his friends and family that he didn't feel like getting involved with relationships until he was twenty eight. He had figured that a perfectly rational, logical age to start looking for somebody who would take their relationship as seriously as he would.

What he didn't tell them was the massive doubt he had about finding anybody even then. He was so certain that his demeanor would put off anybody who met him. He always figured that his stoicism and quiet nature would keep him from ever even getting the chance to talk to somebody.

How did a chance meeting turn into this? How were they able to turn a momentary squabble into... Into...

"I'm having trouble believing this is real," he finally said, "I mean... You said... You said you were feeling... Tipsy... Are you sure you're thinking clearly?"

"I've been struggling with this for the past week... I didn't know how I could have ignored you for so long... I didn't know how to tell you how I felt..."

"So you decided to dress me up really fancy and see how I dealt with your world?"

"It's not my world," she replied with a light smile, "But it's a part of it. I want you to be a part of it, too."

Roland nodded at that and gave her a hug, which she reciprocated. When they eased the embrace, they gazed into each others' eyes and kissed again.

"Let's... Let's go to bed..." Jessica sighed as they broke the embrace.

"I... To sleep, right?" Roland asked, "I don't know if... I don't think I'm ready for..."

She pressed her finger against his lips and leaned in close to kiss him on the forehead. He hugged her and they stood to go to her room.

"You remember the way, right?"

"Just close my eyes and wait for Manticore to hijack me in my boxers so I wake up lying under you..."

She giggled as they walked up the stairs. When they reached the door, she turned and leaned against the frame to look at him more seriously.

"I won't do anything if you're not ready," she said quietly, "It's been a long time for me, Roland, but... I can understand if you're not ready. I just... I hope you don't mind cuddling."

"I don't mind that," Grey replied and they entered the bedchamber.

Curled up on the mattress together, Roland listened to her breathing turn even as she drifted off to sleep. He was so happy, he couldn't believe how good he felt. He had expected to have to resolve himself against a crippling depression before he turned to sleep. He hadn't expected her to draw him in.

Which made his next thought seem so strange. Something felt off. Something seemed... Wrong. He felt a chill grip his heart.

What if this was all an illusion?

Like he figured Kipland would, he started rifling through his head all the different people who would try to pull something like this off. The Carnival, the Mu Mystics, even the Circle of Thorns... Perhaps the Malta Group would try something like this, and Arachnos certainly would.

But it wasn't an illusion. Dreams and illusions didn't last long. They broke down as the subconscious started to overreact. The day had gone by so... So realistically... For the most part. The past hour had been the stuff dreams were made of.

He admonished himself for being paranoid. He had what he wanted. He had what he needed. He was happy and he was certain he could make Jessica happy, too.

As his eyes closed and he started to drift off to sleep, one nagging question continued to hammer against the back of his eyes: If everything was so good, why did it seem so wrong?

Grey's Army

I... I don't know what to say about this one. The story's not over, but... I don't want to spoil what's going to happen.